Broken Tragedies
by tricyclops
Summary: What if Hawke died in the duel against the Arishok for Isabella's life? Dead!Lady Hawke/Fenris and Isabella one-shot. Takes place at the end of Act 2 of Dragon Age 2.


**Too Late**

What if the Arishok had won the duel for Isabella's life and Hawke died? One-shot, Isabella and Dead!LadyHawke/Fenris.

Author's Note: This is the first in a series of one shots I'm writing in which all will be heart-stomping tragedies, so be warned. So this story is kind of an AU situation. More of a "What if?" because other than Hawke being killed by the Arishok everything else is pretty much the same.

**Authors's Note EDIT**: So this was going to be a series of one shots, but I don't think I'll update often enough, so I'm gonna mark this as complete and let it be a solo one-shot. So I think I'll just put the stories up that I had planned for this as solo one-shots too. So people who were looking forward to getting their heart-stomped repeatedly, don't fret. The tragedies are still coming. Just not in quick succession.

Qunari Translations- Shok = War, Asala = Soul, Kata = end or death, Basra = thing, meaning a worthless person not of the Qun, Basalit'an = non-Qunari worthy of respect, Kadan = extremely close friend, Annan essam Qun! = Victory to the Qun!, Attash Qunari! = Glory to the Qunari

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><p>Blood pooled on the cold marble, deep cheering resonated through the halls, and a quiet sob came from a dark-skinned traitor. The Champion was dead. Dead by the hand of the Arishok, but her true killer merely stood on the side lines and watched. Praying, for the first time in her life, that Hawke would be victorious. But it seemed that the Maker really had turned his gaze from the world because there Hawke lie, bathing in her own blood. Now the time for praying was over and now all the Rivani could do was simply stand there and cry.<p>

Isabella didn't quite know what she was crying for; regret of her betrayal, Hawke's blood drenched corpse, or her certain fate at the hands of the Qunari. She had finally grown a heart, but it was too late.

At first she had been overjoyed when Hawke agreed to fight for her life. Even after betraying Hawke's trust and putting the entire city in danger Hawke still stood by her side. Isabella realized now that she had been a coward when she ran, which is why she came back to set things right. Now she wondered if that was truly the right decision. If she hadn't returned Hawke wouldn't have had to fight for the Rivani's life and she would still be alive. This wasn't right. Hawke should still be alive, and if she hadn't come back she might still be.

But why had Hawke even fought for her life in the first place? It was baffling that Hawke had still had cared about whether she lived or died after Isabella had put the city in so much danger due to pure selfishness. Yes, they had been friends, had fought beside each other in battle, but she didn't think that Hawke's loyalty had reached this far. She was wrong. The Rivani certainly wouldn't have done the same for Hawke. Sure, she had come back, but it was difficult enough for her to do merely that. If it had come between giving Hawke to the Qunari or facing certain death she would have certainly handed Hawke over.

But for some reason, that Isabella would never know, she had agreed to duel for Isabella's freedom. Hawke was truly a remarkable woman, which is why Isabella had not been worried when Hawke agreed to the duel, at first. Isabella was an exceptional fighter, but she was nothing compared to Hawke. Hawke sliced though her enemies with a grace thought only to be on the ballroom floor and a terror plucked straight from your worst nightmare. Isabella would have surely given the Arishok a good run, but she would have been down in mere minutes.

Isabella knew Hawke had a much better chance at felling the horned behemoth. At one point it looked as if she would be victorious. However, fighting for nearly an hour had worn her down and she began to drag on the battlefield. That is when her blood began to spill, and her end followed soon after. After all, no matter how many people thought otherwise, Hawke was only human. She could die same as any other mortal, and the proof pulsed red in front of the Rivani's eyes.

This had gone way further than she had ever thought possible. She would have never agreed to steal that damn book if she had know it would turn out like this. But once she had made the choice her life was at the mercy of Castillion. The shipwreck, the Qunari occupation, and Hawke dead; she hadn't wanted any of that, but she knew she was the cause. So much turmoil and unrest was caused by that stupid book, all because she had refused to risk her life to give it back. For fear of her life, for fear that her single life would be taken. Never thinking of the thousands of others in Kirkwall, never thinking of all the Qunari exiled from their homeland, never thinking of all the Qunari left without an Arishok.

Her selfishness had painted her hands red with blood, not only Hawke's, but the Viscount, Shamus, the Qunari and who knows how many more. Yes, she had been selfish to think the preservation of her life was of more importance than all the consequences. The way Hawke helped others, with no reservations, how she had held the well being of the city above all else. Isabella had finally learned a lesson from Hawke in selflessness when she made the choice to return. But it was too late, and the damage was done. Now _everything_ was just too late.

Summoning the courage to lift her gaze to her companions was painful, but the look on their faces was unbearable. Aveline and Varric stood together in silence, heads bowed, with a look of helplessness on their faces and a lost look in their eyes. Poor Merrill was clinging to Varric and sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. A light blue glow emanated from Anders' wet eyes and he seemed to be having some kind of internal struggle with the demon, or whatever it truly was, inside him. But Fenris, _oh Maker Fenris_, he was the worst. Kneeling in the growing pool of her blood, his expression seemingly emotionless, but the intense glow of his lyrium brands gave him away.

Gingerly stroking her jaw, his hands shaking, he could feel Isabella's gaze on him, but ignored it. Hawke's ice blue eyes stared up at him, the warmth gone and replaced with a frigid emptiness. The blackness of her pupils were an empty abyss that seemed to pull him in. He gently shut her eyes; no longer able to being able to bear the emptiness. Surely he would have broken his well crafted mask if he had stared into them for a second longer. Kneeling there in front of her he had already shown way to much vulnerability, especially being in front of the Qunari. He could feel the Qunari's eyes on the back of his head. Now their triumph was over and they stared puzzled at the elf mourning the fallen's corpse. Fenris had enough knowledge of the Qunari to know that they did not mourn the dead, and they most certainly did not show affection towards a corpse. Not wanting to lose even more respect from the horned victors Fenris stood up to face them, his bare feet and hand painted red by the blood of their kill and his body dripping red.

"Annan essam Qun!" bellowed the Arishok. His exclamation of victory reverberating through the keep.

"Attash Qunari!" chanted the rest of the Qunari in reply to the Arishok's call.

The Arishok proudly approached Fenris. Now that Hawke had been slain the elf held the most respect among the Qunari, having proven his extensive knowledge of their culture.

"Basalit'an, we have received what we came for. The Qun is satisfied. The Qun does not demand shok...for now. The path commands us to return to Seheron and return the sacred book to it's rightful place."

The Rivani took a sharp breath while she waited for the decision of her fate. Hoping that Hawke's valiant effort would count for something. That she had not died in vain.

"Basra," the Arishok motioned towards the traitor, "you are to come with us."

Isabella swallowed a sob as the Arishok's men surrounded her, but she was shocked when she heard the deep, raspy tone of the elf's voice. It was not common speak, they spoke in the harsh tongue of the Qunari. She had no clue what they were speaking of as both men's faces gave no hint of their conversation. Every so often they motioned to her. Isabella hoped the elf was pleading her case, but she didn't want anymore bloodshed on account of her and her selfish mistakes. Soon Fenris began to stammer a bit and it seemed his knowledge of the language was beginning to run thin. She held her breath in suspense as she would finally be able to understand what they were talking about, and if it meant freedom for her.

"This Basra has stolen from me. She does not deserve to breathe." Fenris nodded towards Isabella. It seemed that the elf was not defending her, but rather attempting to worsen her situation.

"What has she stolen?"

Fenris looked down at Hawke lying in red, not the same red sheets he had left her in that night, but a pool of her own blood that wrenched his heart. His eyes were an abyss of sadness and pain.

"My only chance at happiness." Fenris lowered his head, clearly trying to keep his composure.

"What was this woman to you?" A look of confusion furrowed the Arishok's brow.

"She was my..." Fenris stuttered struggling to retain his respect among the Qunari, "kadan."

"I understand. Under the unique circumstances I accept your request. The Qun does not accept theft. This Basra will meet her kata, by your hand, to repay her debt to you, Basalit'an." He nodded to his men and they dragged Isabella closer to Fenris.

"I am grateful. You have my thanks." Fenris bowed his head in respect, "I have one more request, if you would hear it."

The Arishok raised his brow at Fenris' boldness, but nodded for him to continue. Fenris could tell the Arishok's generosity was running thin, but Fenris had to ask for this. He couldn't let them have what little was left of her.

"I request that you leave the body of the fallen for me to deal with."

"Why? She has met her kata. Her asala has fleeted her body. She is nothing more than a husk." A harsh look twisted the Arishok's features. He clearly did not approve of the elf's request.

"I wish to take care of her...husk on my own terms. She was of great importance to many people of this city. A woman of respect and honor and many would like to see her...disposed of properly." Fenris tried not to wince at his word choice. Appealing to the Qunari's ways was his best chance at the Arishok granting his request.

"An odd request. However, we are eager to leave this place and disposing of this body would simply be another task keeping us here. So you may do what you please with the corpse."

Fenris sighed with relief, he would not be able to endure Hawke's head paraded around on a spike. Now he would be able to give her a proper goodbye, one that he wished he did not have to say so soon. Now, he had to deal with the Rivani thief.

"Follow through with your duty, Basalit'an. Deal with the Basra."

"Gladly." Fenris slowly approached Isabella like a wolf approaches his prey. The feral look in his eyes focused intently on Isabella.

"Fenris, no!" Merrill shouted out, knowing his next move by the familiar look in his eyes.

"Shut up, Monster!" Fenris growled, practically lunging at the poor girl's throat. Instead of taking the kill he merely snarled at her and stalked towards his true prey.

"Hush, Daisy." Varric whispered, "Let Fenris get his closure." The trembling Dalish reached for Varric's hand and held on tight as all the others simply watched as Fenris bared his teeth at the traitor.

"What are you going to do with me?" Isabella's tone was quiet and the proud tone that usually gave volume to her voice had faded in the face of her fate.

"Make you pay for what you have stolen from me." The blood-rushed out from Isabella's face realizing that Fenris was really going to go through with this.

"Please, Fenris." A soft whimper escaped from the Rivani's quivering lips.

"The time is over for begging, whore. Step forward." The elf's utterance sounded more like growling than words.

"Do you really place all the blame on me and none on the man who held the blade that cut her down? It was her choice to defend me, Fenris!"

"One that she would have never had to make if it weren't for you and your greed. Hawke and the Arishok would have never had to duel and he would have never raised his blade against her or even stepped foot in this city if it weren't for you. So, yes, in my eyes you are the one to blame. Now, step forward." A blue glow started to emanate from his brands, pulsing and flaring, showing the true extent of his anger and pain that his face could not.

Finally the men let go of the Rivani and backed away, and Isabella took a hesitant step forward. Fenris circled her with a hungry look in his eye, hungry for revenge. His glow spreading and turning into burning fire that engulfed the two. A clawed glove reached for her face and he ran the tip of his claw along her jaw leaving a faint trail of red. Isabella cringed at the feel of the cold metal and her eyes watered as the red began to drip down the side of her face.

"Killing me won't bring her back, Fenris. She's gone." The traitor's voice now nothing more than a whisper.

"I know," a look of pain filled his eyes and the flare of blue around him grew like a wild fire, "and you were the one who stole her from me."

"Fen..."

The traitor was silenced as Fenris' claw plunged through her chest with a sickening sound and she slumped to the floor. There was disturbing silence as Fenris held her beating heart in his hand and his companions watched in horror. The fleshy mass dropped to the floor with a thud and the Dalish girl let out a sharp gasp.

Isabella was dead, but Hawke still lay there in a pool of liquid mortality. No matter how many hearts Fenris ripped out, Hawke's would still be silent. The traitor's death wouldn't bring her back. The taste of revenge left a bitter taste in Fenris' mouth, and he knew revenge would never be enough. But the one person who could've given him more no longer breathed.

The traitor's heart still beat weakly on the floor before completely giving out. The Arishok nodded at Fenris to take his leave and to take his fallen lover.

Fenris picked up her limp body and pressed it to his, her skin still warm, and began walking towards the keep door. Stroking her blood soaked hair he finally let himself let go of control and silent hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He slowly walked out with her in his arms; her body was light but weighed heavy on his heart. Whispering in her ear all the things he wished he had said. Things she would never truly hear. Things that she would never know.


End file.
